The King's son
by le-mademoiselle-tea
Summary: Enjolras is son of the king and he secretly sneaks out of the palace to lead a revolution against his father. E/É Rated T, just in case.
1. Prologue

**Prologue **

It was that time of the year again. The time where the king and the queen would throw another extravagant party in honor to their anniversary. And, like every other year, their kid just wouldn't appear.

And as usual, the governess would look for him all over the palace, trying all the places he had hidden on previous years, but knowing he was smart enough for not using them ever again. She just went by looking in the possible new hideouts, finally finding him on the wine cellar this time.

The little prince would completely ignore all her attempts to make him get to his quarters and get dressed for the evening, only to make her end up dragging him over, him being too heavy for her to carry him like she used to. The Governess was a very thin woman, but regardless, capable of being extraordinarily stern.

And these moments of great sternness were the only occasion where the prince would actually obey all of her orders without mayor opposition. He would end up dressing himself with his dress-coat, looking as cute as he could be, with that characteristic annoyed face he had. The servants would try to offer to help him getting prepared, only for their job indicating them to do so, but knowing the kid would just refuse to all their help.

He hated all this. He never felt like being like all these people he lived around were. Even at the tender age of eight, he had the feeling something was wrong with that.

And there in the middle of the party, there was this young boy, supposed to be dancing and overflowing happiness around, sitting absolutely not enjoying himself, thinking of all the possible illness he could fake to get out of there sooner.

He was absently playing with his necktie as all the possible scenarios for each of the fake illness passed through his mind when a couple and a girl around his age, sadly familiar, was announced.

"Monsieur and Madame Thénardier, and their daughter, Eponine." He knew their names from a long time ago. They would attend to all of the palace events where not only royals were admitted. They had no nobility title, but were well-known and well-seen people, not to mention _very_ rich.

"Allô!" He stammered to the girl, while his parents greeted hers, in that stupid way they had, like if they were incommensurably superior. Not that he liked the Thénardiers a bit, but that attitude couldn't stop annoying him.

"Bonsoir, Votre Majesté!" The Thénardier girl, Eponine, said making a cheesy reverence. He happened to hate being called _Majesty _and he happened to greatly detest that spoiled girl.

But he couldn't ignore the opportunity she meant for him in that moment. She could be the perfect excuse to leave his sit, and maybe if they danced, he could sneak out of the ball room to hide behind a statue and go to his room without being seen. Because he knew if he attempted to go directly to his room, someone, either his father or mother, would eventually avoid him to do so.

And that thought was the only one that drove him to grab Eponine's hand, kiss it, stand up and ask her if he could have that dance.

He noticed his mother noticing him, and he could almost feel her smile, as he would usually avoid talking to girls, to everyone really, but specially to girls. He also saw Eponine's excited smile, and her exaggerated nod, and the look she gave to her parents, and their proud look at the girl.

All Eponine could think back then was how she was going to endlessly brag around every girl at her school about the prince asking her to dance, and the jealous faces of every single girl. She also thought about how little Cosette's face would look when she told her she was with a prince while she was sweeping floors back at home.

They finally made it to the middle of the ball gown, where Eponine stopped, and so he did. A fast piece of music started sounding and they danced, and danced, and danced. More than what he had in mind, but every time the music stopped, it would suddenly start again, and every time he intended to let her go and get lost in the crowd, she would hold hard and keep going.

And meanwhile they danced, she would make a non-stop talk of… well, everything. She started pointing out how magnificent the party was, then she got through how handsome he looked in his suit (all he did was nod, which seemed to offend her, for he didn't make any comment of her dress), then she started talking about the guests, making him questions, him just shrugging. And then she started talking about herself, making her decide, that beyond doubt he didn't liked this girl.

"And I am the fastest reader of my class." She said, with a highly brag tone. She didn't noticed all the annoyed looks he gave to her, it seemed. "Can you read, prince? I bet you can, you're so smart. Maybe later we could read something together." The idea of doing that made him feel he had all the illnesses he intended to fake a little while ago. "Those flowers are so fantastic!" she said pointing to some decoration flowers, and he wondered if she would ever shut up, he thought that maybe if he said something she would stop talking for a little while.

"I like flowers." He randomly said, not sure if he liked them at all.

"Really? I love them! Today I happened to cut one from my garden, it's full of them, and this one was particularly pretty. It's a pity some street rat crushed me through the street and made me droop it. Those people are scrum; someone should seriously get rid of them." She said with a smile, full of herself.

And that seemed to be the only part of the conversation he actually heard, at least it was the only one that had weight in him. He suddenly felt how he _really, really_ disliked this brat.

"How can you say that!?" He yelled, gaining an astonished look from Eponine, and stopping dancing with her.

"I just-" She tried to say something, but he interrupted.

"Something should get rid of bratty girls like you." He said, with all the heat in his heart. Her offended gasp didn't made any things better. The commotion seemed to have stopped everyone near them from dancing. And also put a confusion face on the Thénardiers, who had been watching everything from a corner but couldn't hear a thing. When they started walking to them, as well as the queen, the prince decided there was no point on trying to sneak out silently, so he walked straight to his room, leaving Eponine with the mouth opened and his mother calling for him.

When he entered in his room, he sat himself in his bed, waiting for someone to come in and yell at him about how what he said was offensive, and that he had to apology for everything. But for a long time, nobody came.

It was only late night when his governess knocked the door, and opened it slowly.

She didn't said anything, and just expected to hear the prince's excuse for his behavior. But when he looked at her, she knew she had to start speaking, since he was not going to say anything.

"What you said to that girl wasn't very nice, you know?" Of course he knew. But he also knew it was fair.

"She deserved it." He gave her with a gloomy look.

"Maybe she did. That's no reason for saying it anyway."

"Yes it is." He responded with a confused look. "She said someone should get rid of the poor people, and that's not true… Someone should get rid of girls like her instead." That last comment made the governess to raise a brow. "That comment wasn't nice from her, but it still doesn't justify you saying those kinds of things. You are a prince. "

"But the poor… she's not any better than them! She has no right to believe she is." He said frustrated.

That warmed the governess's heart. "You surely have a golden heart, _your majesty_" He growled at that word. "That will be a good thing once you are king."

After a long pause, he whispered "I don't wanna be a king."

"You may say that now, but you will have to."

"I don't want to be like mother and father. I really don't want to." He raised his face, and the governess could see a worried look on it.

"Why?" She dared to ask, not sure if she should expect an answer.

"I just… don't thinks it's good having that much more power than everyone else." He said, disquiet.

She thought a lot time what to say next. "Well, you, my young boy, will have to do something really great to change that." She said, not knowing she was lifting a flame within the kid that no one would ever be able to extinguish.

That night, the little boy wouldn't stop thinking about her governess's words. They were true. He had to do something. He couldn't expect things to change with him sitting in his pretty throne. He wouldn't stay there just watching. He was going to change the curse of things.

How, he took some more years to figure. But the meanwhile, he would hold on hard against everything their parents wanted. He was giving a pretty rough fight. What everyone thought was that he was just going thought a phase of a spoiled young prince that would change with time. He didn't care. And as he started to grow into a handsome young man, he finally began to take action on the matter.

He was finally going to change the world. It was the time, no more waiting. It was _HIS_ time. He would come up with the tomorrow he knew people deserved, at last. There was a life about to start and he just couldn't wait to feel it there, behind him.

**A/N: My first fanfic, hope you like it. I still have to figure out Enjolras's prince name. Ideas are welcome!**

**Please tell me what you think, good or bad. I don't own Les Mis.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

He stood by the window admiring with a kind of pride his work. He had to make sure the scene was believable without further view. He had piled some pillows in order to make it look like he was still lying there. And it was pretty convincing. In the dark of the night, in the improbable case that someone entered to his room, they would be totally convinced the prince was comfortable in his bed even if he was going to be streets away from the palace.

And suddenly he realized the moon was very high in the sky, so he figured he would be late if he waited anymore time.

So he made sure that the rope made out of bed sheets was well tied in the window, and he climbed down in the wall. He made sure there were no guards around and he looked for the loose piece of floor; He had lost count of how many times he had done this hideout in his childhood and teen years. Although, you could say he was still getting out of his teen years.

But the use of that secret passage had increased within the years, when the young prince had finally figured out a way to change everyone's fate. Last year, he had being sneaking in and out of the palace about three times a week, and, he thought, it was a miracle no one had noticed his absence in the nights. He knew it was going to happen sooner or later, but he couldn't afford being caught. His cause was too important.

And for the cause's sake, he carefully removed the loose piece of floor, trying to not make any sound, and entered in the tunnel below it, and slowly closed it after him. There, he would get down some narrow staircases, and get out on the first floor.

"Dammit." When he opened the hidden door, he saw what he fared. There was a guard, standing in front of his exit to the real world.

He would normally wait for the guard to walk away to another spot to go and climb the high lattice, but that could take a lot of time to happen, and that night he was late. Combeferre was probably waiting for him to arrive in any minute.

So, he quietly reached for a small, yet large enough rock in his pocket, and stealthily threw it to a hidden pile of metal he had piled up before in the opposite corner of the exit door, specifically for that kind of cases; He would only use this kind of distractions only once or twice a year, but it was very necessary.

As the guard went looking for the sound's source, the prince quickly reached the tall lattice in the dark, and let slight grunts while climbing it.

Once in the other side, he looked back and saw the guard returning, so he hurried to run out of there. He went through the palace's front door and the castle's drainage. And when he finally reached the Parisian streets, he stopped breathing heavily. He still had the adrenaline and his heard pounding hard in his chest when he took off the dark hood he had, revealing a bright red coat, that shined in the moon's light, and he headed up to the Musain, where his friends were waiting, for him.

"Enjolras, you are late." Joly announced as he passed through the stairs, reaching the second floor. Everyone looked at him, with different reactions in their faces.

"Where have you been?" Combeferre said with a relieved sigh from the other side of the room, with plenty of books in front of him. "I had to start the meeting myself in your absence."

"Yes, and he's not entertaining, _at all_." Grantaire commented. Enjolras sighed with a reprimanding look. "Time flew for me in the library, my apologies. Though it seems you've managed it excellently, _mon ami_." He announced, grabbing his friend's shoulder and giving a small grin.

"Yes, yes, sure." Combeferre said, nodding and moving, giving Enjolras space to stand next to him.

"So…" Enjolras said, rising his view. He was making a recount of the heads in the room. Bahorel, Courfeyrac (with Gavroche behind him), Feuilly was also there, Jehan, Lègle… Grantaire. "Where's Marius?" He whispered to Ferre.

"Not here." Combeferre said, not looking away from his papers. He heard Enjolras mumble _That Bonapartist. _"We're lucky if he comes once a week, he has other things to do, apparently. Ask Courfeyrac, not me."

"Doesn't matter, where are my maps?" He said frowning. Bahorel passed him some papers. "Here I don't know why you don't take 'em to your own home, Enjolras." He said carelessly, but Enjolras's heart stopped for a moment, but after seeing his friend continued talking, he relaxed a little. He couldn't imagine him getting through all the way to his room carrying his maps and papers, and he feared the day his friends would refuse to keep them.

He also feared the day his friends would ask to visit his house. Not that it had not happened already, but he had always denied firmly. The day they became more insistent, they would discover his masquerade and everything would get down. He was glad that never happened, at least yet, but he couldn't keep that though out of his mind.

The meeting went on without further interruption, except for Musichetta who stopped by with some drinks for the guys. As for the rest, the men became very engrossed in their revolution conversation.

"We could use barricades." Jehan commented calmly between the sea of voices and everyone became quiet. He was surprised when everybody stared at him with interested looks. "Or shall I keep my mouth shout?" He asked, misinterpreting their gazes.

"No, no. Go on" Courfeyrac said with a curious look. Enjolras was sitting silent, hearing everything with a concentrated frown.

"Well, you know a barricade. They are helpful, if we intend to make a revolution." After a long pause, and by the looks of his friends, he assumed he had to keep talking. "We would use furniture people will throw from their windows. With a strategic location, of course. _We can make one here_."

"Here?" Bahorel asked.

Jehan gave them a look, with his innocent face. "Oui, here. It's a good location. These streets-" He said pointing to the side streets that could be watched by the window. "- could be covered with some furniture easily. And there-" He said pointing to the main street "- that would be the main barricade's place."

"We could have the guns and the gunpowder here in the café in case it rains." Courfeyrac pointed out reflexing.

"And we could shelter the wounded here, too." Joly commented.

"Jehan, you little genius." Feuilly said with a big smile.

And suddenly they all began discussing again.

"Well, a barricade it shall be." Enjolras announced standing up with his chair, and giving a proud glance to Jehan, who grinned flattered, and Feuilly finally shouted: "1:00 of the morning, gentlemen! Time to go home!"

They began picking up their papers, maps, books and other stuff when two people crossed the stairs, entering to the room.

"Look who decided to come!" Grantaire said in a mocking tone. Enjolras raised his view, and he saw Marius standing there.

"Well, if you didn't know, judging by the hour, the meeting is already over." Enjolras commented.

"Sorry, everybody. I was just doing-" Marius made a pause to look down with dreamy eyes and grin at the floor "I was doing _other_ things."

Enjolras gave an exasperated sigh, and turned around back to his papers.

"Don't get me wrong. I know the meeting is over. I just wanted to drop by, so you know I didn't forget. I was just busy"

"Busy doing what?" Enjolras replied annoyed. And then, he suddenly realized the small figure that was standing behind Marius. It was a woman, or a girl actually, who couldn't be two years younger than them. Then he suddenly figured what Marius could mean by _busy_.

Marius was confused by the other man's face, and he followed his gaze and had his eyes on the woman, who was looking at one of the tables from the corner. "No, no. She's Eponine. She's a friend." Enjolras made a movement with his hand showing he didn't cared for Marius's personal life. He looked as normal as always, but inside him, there were a lot of thoughts bursting.

_Eponine. _He had heard that name before, and it didn't carried good memories. He remembered how much he had once detested a girl whose name was Eponine, in his childhood. He had left that times in the past, since fortunately after the party's incident, he never saw that rotten child again. He had almost forgotten of her existence.

And, of course, that woman standing there couldn't be _that _Eponine.There were lots of people named Eponine, after all. Weren't there?

He breathed slowly and calmed himself. It was too late, he was tired. There was no reason for caring that girl at all. He kept himself busy ordering everything in Combeferre's bag, and giving it to his owner. Everyone left then, and he found himself alone with Courfeyrac and Grantaire, who were drinking in a table near the window.

Courfeyrac was Marius's closest friend. He knew about his friend's life. Enjolras repeated himself there was no reason for worrying, but he finally gave up and walked to the table where Courfeyrac was.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" He asked, and the other man nodded, standing up.

"Do you… happen to know who the girl with Marius was?" He whispered, until he noticed Grantaire was sleeping. Then he raised his voice to a normal tone. "Eponine, I believe."

Courfeyrac frowned and grinned. "And for what reason would you, my leader, wish to know?"

"I think I may have met her before. " He wanted to erase his friend's stupid grin. "_That's all_."

"Yes, indeed. Eponine is her name. She's something like Marius's errand girl. I'm not quite sure what their relationship status is. Anyway, if you're interested in knowing more about her, you shall ask Gavroche. I believe they are related somehow. He told me about her past, but not much detail."

"What did tell you?" Enjolras said. Surprisingly curious. That puzzled Courfeyrac.

"Well, long story short, she used to be rich, like, very rich, at the point of attending royal galas and all that stuff" Courfeyrac laughed. "But her family lost it all, and now she's, well, a gamine." He felt kind of bad saying the last word.

Enjolras thought quiet some minutes, and then asked: "Do you happen to know her last name?"

His friend shrugged. "Thénardsomething."

At that moment Enjolras's blood went cold.

Thénardier. So she was _that_ Eponine.

**A/N: Thank you so much for the follows, favorites and reviews. Please, tell me what you think of this chapter! I do not own Les Misérables, sadly. **


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